My Fathers World
Sunk comfortably aloof in his mauve reading chair
Dad's evening reverie; pipe, cheese, crackers and book
His world vanished in smoke swirling into the air
For his family; an occasional vacant look
Yet he'd take time to spin me a bedtime story
Of enchanted lands and daring schemes
Flights of fancy depicting heroic glory
Betraying his real life's unmet dreams
My dad's inner home, the one he preferred
Was far from our world's cruel, petty strife
His family and solace was the written word
Though he was good to his kids and true to his wife
This world was too much with him somehow
A scathingly mean-spirited bother
But I just remember his soft kindness now
Blessed to have had such a father
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